Broken
by rainfall1310
Summary: It had been four months and seventeen days since Dean had been taken from them. Had she been looking at a clock, she probably could have given you the hours and minutes too, maybe even the seconds that had passed since then. Ella and Dean were more than close, but what will she do now that he is gone? Rated T for a swear word or two, not too bad


**Hi! So yeah sometimes I write stuff and sometimes I like it so that's what happened here:) Just a little one shot that has been bouncing around in my head for a few days. This is my first Supernatural story, and sadly, I don't own anything. If I did there would probably be a lot more Sabriel and Destiel going on:) **

**Well anyway, read and review, let me know what you think! Rated T because I think I used a swear or two and I don't really know how the ratings work**

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Ella screamed as yet another nightmare tore through her. Bright, flashing lights. Terrified screams. Ripping skin. Dean calling out for her and Sammy over and over and over again. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and cried out quietly in frustration and exhaustion. It had been four months and seventeen days since Dean had been taken from them. Had she been looking at a clock, she probably could have given you the hours and minutes too, maybe even the seconds that had passed since then. A few months ago, Bobby stopped coming in the middle of the night to comfort her, back when they finally knew the nightmares were never going to stop. Most of the time she stayed with Bobby, and they were very good at living together, despite all that had happened. Their meals were quiet and companionable, and they often spent nights watching old TV shows or hunting when they could. All it took, however, was an urgent call from Sam to uproot her for days, sometimes even weeks at a time. It drove Bobby crazy, she knew, that Sammy called her every day when he hadn't spoken a word to him since…

He wouldn't understand though. Hell, she barely understood what they were doing herself! Working with Demons scared her. Her father taught her when she was a little girl to never trust them, and being near Dean all these years just reinforced that. But she had to save him. She had to. Maybe, in the very back of her mind, a small voice said that it just couldn't be done, that she had tried everything, and failed. And oh how she and Sammy had done everything they could think of. She bargained with any demon that would listen, offering them anything and everything to get Dean back, and time and time again they laughed in her face. She and Sammy had tried every ritual in the book, often behind Bobby's back, and all she had to show for it were the scars, white and pale pink against the skin of her palm, her forearm, her side.

Sighing heavily, she wiped away the few tears that had fallen down her face and made her way to the bathroom that she and Bobby shared. With trembling fingers she flicked on the light, blinking painfully as her eyes attempted to adjust. _How could this happen?_ She thought miserably as she stared down her reflection in the mirror. Exhausted blue eyes, rimmed in red and accented by deep purple bruises underneath, gazed back at her. She could remember a time where they seemed to glow with light and laughter, happiness and youth. Now they were dull and lifeless, as if Dean had taken her soul too, when he left. Most of the time, she was positive that he did.

Shaking her head she rubbed her eyes tiredly and flicked at the light switch again, letting darkness once again fill the small room. She found the way to her room mechanically, hardly opening her eyes at all as she padded barefoot across the old carpet and settled on her bed, cold from her absence.

She didn't know how long she had been staring blankly at the ceiling when it happened. One minute she was lying there, her body begging for rest while her mind fought stubbornly against it, and the next she was on her feet, mind racing as her room erupted in a quiet chaos. The old television grumbled to life, rapidly changing channels and then shutting off, just to repeat the process again. The lights flickered and shuttered. The radio blared static at her. The window rattled.

It only took seconds for her hunter training to kick in. She leapt onto the bed and grabbed at the gun she kept under the pillow, just like Dean had taught her. She heard a quiet flutter of wings and whirled around to see a man standing a short distance away from her. He had deep blue eyes and messy black hair that looked as if he had just rolled out of bed. His clothes, though, were neat and proper; dark suit pants and a blue tie, and a tan trench coat that looked a lot like the one she and Bobby had seen in an old movie the other day.

Oh. And he had wings. They were huge, crushed against the wall because her room wasn't large enough to hold them, and black as onyx. Ella leveled the gun at him evenly.

"Who are you?" her voice shook slightly. She could only imagine how she looked to him. Her long black hair was piled in a messy bun on the top of her head. Her tank top fell off of her shoulders and the dark sweat pants hung off of her hips, showing off the hipbones that stuck out a little too much, revealing all the weight she hadn't meant to lose. Between that and the fact that she hadn't slept in four months, she knew she was in no condition to fight. It was clear that Bobby knew too. They hadn't gone hunting together in nearly three weeks

"My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord." He said. His voice was deep and rough, like gravel on glass. As he spoke, his wings disappeared. Ella blinked in shock but said nothing as they simply faded away like shadows.

"Right. Angel. Okay." She said wearily. Of course she believed in God and Angels, heaven and of course hell, the whole nine yards. She was a Christian, after all. She had lost count of how many times she attempted to drag her boys to church, but every once in a while she got lucky and they agreed to go. Sammy was a lot more willing than Dean had been. But it was two in the morning and she was dead on her feet and this…an _Angel_ standing right in front of her…this was bat shit crazy.

"I need your help. Don't bother with the gun, it will not affect me." Castiel said, taking a few steps towards her.

"My help." She repeated blankly, automatically backing away from the 'angel' but dropping the gun on to the bed next to her, for some reason believing his words to be true.

"Yes. You don't believe me." Everything he said was a statement. There was no emotion in his voice and that unnerved her.

"No." she said, frowning. Castiel stopped his advance with only a small space between them.

"Then check for yourself. There is no need to hide what you can do, we already know anyway." She didn't bother to ask who 'we was'; she was still pretty convinced this was all some exhaustion induced hallucination. Swallowing nervously, she reached out with a trembling hand and touched her fingertips to his forehead. She inhaled sharply as bright images flashed in her mind. Golden wings and a very familiar laugh filled his most recent memories, while thick iron chains and the blood red haze of hell filled his thoughts. Flowing through his mind she was amazed. No human she had ever encountered had a mind like Castiel's, nor any demon for that matter. She dropped her hand and stared at him in amazement. _An angel_

"I need something from you" he stated

"I…wh-what?" she responded, startled at his sudden change of subject.

"I need your amulet." Ella's hand immediately went to her throat, where two chains hung around her neck. One was a thin chain that held the old family ring Dean used to wear that was far too big to fit on any of her own fingers. The other was his amulet, the one Sammy had given him, hanging from a worn leather cord. She knew that it had meant to the world to him, and she was very reluctant to give up something that he loved so much.

"No! No Castiel, you can't take this." She said, clutching it to close to her, sounding like a small child.

"Listen to me." He said, his rough voice surprisingly gentle. "It will help me find him. I can save Dean" Her eyes filled with tears

"You can't save him. No one can." She said, her voice nothing more than an agonized whisper.

"I can. But I need the amulet. It's the only way." Ella just stared at him, a battle waging in her head. Finally she reached up and pulled it over her head, making sure she didn't get it caught on her hair or anything. She held it in her hands for a few moments before pressing it to her lips and hesitantly dropping it into Castiel's outstretched palm.

"Bring him home, please." She begged, her voice quiet and desperate. Castiel gave a firm nod and reached out to touch two fingers to her forehead. Ella's vision began to blur and the exhaustion she had tried for so long to fight overwhelmed her. Castiel's arm steadied her as she swayed on her feet.

"Sleep well Ella. You're going to need it soon." Ella collapsed on the bed, hardly listening to a word he said. The last thing she heard before she fell asleep was the steady beating of wings

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It was the best night of sleep she had had in over four months. She wandered to the bathroom, marveling at the fact that it was now a little past 8 and not 4 in the morning, which was when she usually gave up on sleep altogether and settled on the couch to watch old F.R.I.E.N.D.S reruns. It wasn't until she glanced up in the mirror after brushing her teeth and saw Dean's amulet around her neck that she remembered the events from the night before. She held the small pendant to her lips, closing her eyes against the tears. She wasn't supposed to still have this. Castiel had taken it last night. If she still had it, then it was all a dream, something her exhausted mind had come up with to put her to rest, just for a little while. There was no angel named Castiel, no divine being out to rescue Dean. But it had all felt so _real._

Feeling dejected and hopeless she went downstairs to find Bobby. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, beer in hand despite it not even being 9 in the morning yet, staring off into space. He looked up as she entered and stood up to walk a few steps towards her.

"Hey princess." He said, taking notes of the tears in her eyes that were far too fresh for his liking. What had caused her to cry so soon after waking? Without replying she walked over and all but threw herself into his arms, burying her head in his shoulder. "That bad?" he asked gently.

"Worse." She replied, pulling away from him and giving him a watery smile that was probably a lot more like a grimace.

"Well why don't you get dressed? We can go get breakfast and talk." He suggested. Suddenly, getting out of this house and away from everything that had happened there in the past four months sounded lovely. She nodded and her smile grew a little more genuine. She went upstairs and opened the window, letting in the fresh September air and relaxing as a cool breeze brushed her face. She replaced her grey tank top with a blue lace one and pulled on a light grey ve-neck shirt over top of it. She grabbed a pair of dark wash jean capris out of the small dresser and tugged them on, only to have them hang dangerously low on her hips. Sighing lightly, she added a black leather belt. As she reached for her worn black nike shoes she heard a knock on the door, which she found bizarre. She and Bobby certainly weren't expecting anyone, but she guessed that it could just be a lost wanderer in need of some directions. Shrugging to herself she pulled on her shoes and laced them tightly. It was then that she heard, and felt, something thump against the wall, hard enough to shake the floor of her bedroom.

"Bobby?" she called down anxiously, hurrying out of her room and down the stairs. When there was no reply she went into the front room to find him, keeping her body tense and braced for any attack that could come. What she saw as she entered stopped her in her tracks. Bobby stood a few feet away from a tall figure, looking as if he had seen a ghost. Ella's breath quickened. She would know him anywhere. The leather jacket. Broad shoulders. Hands she knew were calloused even if she wasn't standing close enough to tell. His brown hair dripped with what must have been holy water, because he had to be a demon. It wasn't possible, it couldn't be real. But when he lifted his head to look at her, the breath was knocked out of her as if someone had punched her. Because the eyes that stared back at her were not black and evil. No, not at all. They were green and alive and so intense she could feel her soul being drawn to them in a way she hadn't experienced since the day he died.

_Dean._

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**Thanks for reading, and review please you lovely idgits and assbutts:) There may or may not be a continuation of this story, just depends on what you all think and what I come up with!**

**Thanks so much,**

**Em**


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